


Pieces

by Alley_Skywalker



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, M/M, first wizarding war
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-25
Updated: 2010-02-25
Packaged: 2017-11-13 22:00:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/508159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alley_Skywalker/pseuds/Alley_Skywalker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brief moments in the lives and relationships of several prominent Death Eaters as the War takes hold of their lives and eventually…destroys them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pieces

1974

Out of the boys who entered the Lord’s Academy at the young age of fourteen, Antonin knew very few personally. Those he did know typically had high-ranking brothers or cousins in the Organization. Severus Snape was not much of an exception although, Antonin felt like he had heard more than enough about the boy from Lucius who seemed to be very fond of him. Therefore, it did not surprise Antonin one bit when he spotted Lucius lurking in the shadows during the first large-scale training session. The blonde was obviously intent on Snape and Snape alone. Despite that they had been friends for a large portion of their lives, Dolohov felt somewhat uncomfortable with Malfoy’s hawk-life presence and he dismissed the boys earlier than usual.

“Really, Lucius, there’s no need to lurk. Someone might think you’re spying,” Antonin drawled once the last of the boys was out the door.

“If you really thought that, you wouldn’t be putting away your wand.” Lucius smirked, then became more serious, looking around for a moment. Stalling for time.

“Come out with it, I don’t have all day,” Antonin urged with a good-natured smirk.

“How is he doing?”

“Who?”

“Severus of course.” The irritation was more apparent in the blonde’s eyes than in his voice.

“You said it yourself – he’s very talented. Very naturally inclined toward the Dark Arts. If you are worried about him being a Halfblood…well, I’m certain he will be able to overcome that slight handicap. Blood Magic isn’t overly important in Battle Magic, you know that.”

“Sadly. Or we would have had the Mudbloods a long time ago.”

*

“Tell me, how is your training going?” Lucius poured two glasses of Butterbeer, handing one to the fourteen-year-old boy, who sat in the armchair before him, rigid, uncomfortable, out of place. Lucius wondered at times what impression Severus would make if he was a Pureblood, or at least raised in a proper Halfblood family; if his robes were trimmed with silk and his hair neat and pulled up behind him with a satin ribbon. Perhaps he would look much like the little Black boy during a ball or banquet. Or not. Well, it was all in the raising, and now Severus gave off much the impression of a stray pup, tattered and aggressive, the lines of his face hardened and a bit sulky. He was wearing his Hogwarts robes and cloak, the green and silver scarf the only attempt at color in his whole visage.

“Fine. Thank you.” The boy took the glass and sipped cautiously at the drink, as though he expected Lucius to have tempered with it in some way.

“Very descriptive,” Lucius quipped sarcastically.

Snape shrugged. “I know a lot of the theory but I enjoy being able to apply it. We don’t do that enough in DADA at school.”

Lucius nodded. “Hogwarts has gone soft, especially under Dumbledore. Which is a pity, really – Durmstrang is attracting more and more Purebloods from Western Europe for that very reason.’

The boy blinked up at him, not uncomprehendingly, but without much interest. “I really don’t…the politics don’t matter much to me.”

Lucius surveyed the boy for a moment, his expression unreadable. “Severus, let me tell you something,” he said quietly after a moment. “You can’t get by in this world without politics. You have to learn to lie and manipulate or you will be manipulated and lied to.”

The boy’s eyes narrowed and he drew himself up defensively. “Well, how would you have me go about learning it?”

A smile tugged at the corners of Lucius’ mouth. “I can help you.”

*

Bellatrix stood wrapped in a dark green cloak, watching as the owl she had just sent off flew off into the distance. In the half-darkness of their bedroom she was just another dark shape.

Rodolphus’ steps were quiet on the wooden floor as he approached from behind her. “Who are you writing to? Complaining to your sister what a terrible husband I am?”

“No.”

A gruff laugh was his answer. “Dolohov a more willing audience?”

She turned on him, her eyes flashing dangerously. “Shut up, Rodolphus, or I’ll hex you! The world does not revolve around you, you know!” She swept past him and to the opposite wall. She laid one hand against it and breathed in deeply, restraining her fighter instincts.

Her husband, taken aback, looked over at her with mild bemusement. “Bella, I…” He shrugged and looked away, not finding anything to say. “I don’t want you to be this involved with the war.”

“Why not?”

“Are you a Pureblood daughter and wife or not!” The frustration was eating away at him, clogging up his common sense. “I want an heir! Look at your sister—“

Bella laughed, a high, shrill, unnatural sound. “Roddy, don’t make me laugh.” She turned back to face him. She flicked her hand and the single candle that had been burning on the writing table went out. “You married me for the very reason that I was nothing like Narcissa and had no intention of sitting at home and producing babies.” She walked up to him and began to undo the buttons on his shirt. Slowly. One after the other, always looking up, just barely able to make out his eyes in the darkness. “The organization is no longer legal. We need fighters. I am more than capable and I have no intention of sitting at home while my friends and comrades are out there, risking their necks—“ The last button came undone and she slid her hands over Rodolphus’ exposed chest, playing teasingly with his belt. “—for our Noble Cause.”

***

1977

There was that feeling in Severus’ chest again. The one that burned and scorched every part of him. He watched as Lucius and Narcissa danced at the Ministry Christmas ball. Everything about Lucius was so regal, so perfect. Sometimes, Severus felt like he couldn’t breathe when Lucius was close to him. He wished he could be like Malfoy – perfect skin, perfect hair, popular and respected, with status and power…all the things that Severus never had and wanted to have. His life would have been so much easier.

The waltz ended and the Malfoys' headed in his direction. “Mrs. Malfoy,” Severus greeted a little cautiously. “Good evening.”

“Do you hear him, Lucius? Mrs. Malfoy. Really, Severus, don’t act as though I haven’t known you for half of your conscious life.” She smiled sweetly at him, then turned to her husband. “Darling, I’m going to see where Igor and Augustus have gotten off to.”

“Of course, dear.” Lucius kissed her hand and she floated away. This was perhaps the hardest part. Narcissa was beautiful and sweet, and absolutely perfect. Severus could not possibly wish her harm.

”Sulking as usual?” Lucius asked, picking up a glass of fine wine off of a trey floating by.

“I don’t enjoy dancing, Lucius. It’s a bore and a discomfort, if you ask me.”

“Yes, you would much rather have your nose in a book.” Malfoy lifted the glass to his lips and drank slowly. Severus watched the silk of his robe sleeve slide over the tender flesh on the inside of his wrist. His cheeks burned at the feeling that stirred within him and he looked away quickly.

“When am I to be Marked?” Severus asked, hoping to pull the conversation away from his preferred past times. “I am of age now.”

“After you graduate. The Lord doesn’t want to rush things.”

This was the problem. Lucius would never accept him, never see him for the talented wizard he was and not the shabby Hogwarts boy until he was Marked. “So what do I do while I wait? How do I make sure everyone knows I’m ready?”

“You don’t need to be Marked to prove yourself, Severus.”

*

“This.” Igor Karkaroff held up a flask with a throaty, purple-grey potion inside. The hue resembled that of a bad bruise more than anything. “This, gentlemen, is an offensive potion. It is a corrosive as most of its like are. However. There is one major difference. It is laced with magic that will not allow it to simply be _Evanesco_ -ed away. Also…instead of releasing corrosive vapor, it all turns into vapor once the potion combines with air particles. Therefore, it is harder to concentrate a counter curse on it. The caution is simple. This potion must be used only in far off strikes; the flight of flasks should be enhanced by magic pushes. This is an extremely acidic potion. It is very dangerous. The labs' newest invention.”

There was general, satisfied applause throughout the conference room. Lord Voldemort stood and addressed the room at large once the noise had died. “Good. I am glad we are making progress. Antonin.”

“Yes, my Lord?”

“You are to use the potion in your next raid. Let that be a testing ground for it.”

”Yes, my Lord.”

“Dismissed.”

Antonin watched the other Death Eaters filing out of the hall, his brows drawn together in concentration. The raid was supposed to be close proximity. How were they supposed to incorporate something so long range into a proximity attack…

His thought trailed off when he spotted Bellatrix by the far wall. He made it to her in five large steps and pulled her into a side corridor.

“Antonin, what are you doing?”

He pushed her up against the wall, kissing her harshly on the lips. She gasped but initially kissed back. She finally pushed him away, shaking her head. “We can’t, Tony. Not anymore. I’m married. Have been for years.”

“You’ve never been much for duty, Bella.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. If I didn’t respect our ways I wouldn’t be fighting for them. Rodolphus is a good man.”

“Do you love him?”

“I—“

“Mr. Dolohov! Mr. Dolohov, sir?” Some boy. Bellatrix glanced up briefly at Antonin, shook her head with a pained “agh” and ran off. Antonin whirled on the intruding boy. Snape. Of course. If someone was up to cause trouble it would most likely be Snape. Or Jack Avery.

“Yes?”

“I want to fight in the next raid.”

Dolohov shook his head. “None of the Young Guard will be on that raid.”

“But you’re dealing with a potion,” Severus protested vehemently. I could help! I’m a potions’ expert, you know I am.”

“No. Severus. You still have your last year at Hogwarts to finish. You are also un-Marked.”

Severus shook his head in frustration, long strands of greasy black hair plastered themselves over his cheeks and chin. “But I have to prove myself.”

“For who, boy? Have you a bride?”

Severus flushed crimson and then paled from anger at the jibe. “No. For Lucius Malfoy.”

“You don’t have to prove yourself to Lucius. You did that years ago,” Antonin retorted a bit gruffly, pushing past Severus and down the corridor.

***

1978

When the day came, Severus finally understood. Understood that Lucius had been waiting for one thing and one thing alone. His Marking. The ultimate rite of passage.

There had been nothing romantic about their sex. It had been rough and predatory. All thoughts, feelings, desires, cooped up for years were released in one brief period of less than an hour. One extraordinary sensual explosion.

After they were spent, they lay in Lucius’ bed, the blanket pulled up to their waists, Severus’ head against the blonde’s shoulder. Their breathing in perfect synch.

“I was astounded by you the day I met you, Severus,” Lucius mused. “I knew you had promise. But I didn’t know how much or of what sort.”

“What about your wife?”

“I love Cissy, don’t get me wrong. But that love is full of duty and childhood attachment.” He leaned over and kissed Severus’ forehead. “However, you must understand Severus, that what lies between us must be kept…secret. I don’t want my and Cissy’s marriage to end up like Bella and Roddy’s,.”

“And how’s that?” Severus asked, icily.

“Crippled by jealousy.”

***

1981

With the fall of the Lord came the crumbling of the world they had all known. Severus watched in a blind daze as those who used to be his friends and mentors and companions in arms died or were dragged off to Azkaban.

He cried only once – when Evan died sacrificing himself for Antonin. The man who had taught them all so much…

He regretted his betrayal only once – when Lucius went up in front of the Wizengamot on charges of Death Eater activity. The hearing took three hours and the only comfort Severus had was in his tiny Godson, the little Draco, who already looked so much like his father, whose head he stroked in an almost compulsive gesture while Narcissa cradled the child in her arms.

When Lucius was finally released, Severus could have cried for the joy of it. But there were no more tears to be shed. Lucius’ eyes said it all. In the process of things, he had found out too much. Severus was cleared, and Lucius was not to be fooled into thinking that personal amnesty from Dumbledore came for free.

*

Bellatrix stood in the center of the room in their hunting-house hideout, face buried in her hands as she cried.

“Stop crying, Bella,” Rodolphus commanded. Rabastan and Barty Crouch sat by the far wall, watching as the Lestranges held a battle of wills. “We will not get anything out of the Aurors Longbottom. I’m sorry that there have been no news from your lover but—“

“Roddy, you complete imbecile!’ she shrieked. “Tony or no Tony, this isn’t about him.’

“Then what is it about?” Rodolphus was losing his temper.

“It is about finding our Lord, Roddy. About saving ourselves from being hunted like lowly criminals. It is about gaining or losing everything. Have you seen our boys die? Angelus Wilkes? Evan Rosier? Do you want your brother to be next?”

Rodolphus did not have any answer to give her.

***

1982

There was nothing to be said. The silence of the room was icy and Lucius was not even looking at him. There was emptiness inside of Severus that he couldn’t explain. It was a gaping sucking wound and he felt like he might choke on the very air he breathed at every moment.

“You betrayed my family, Severus. You betrayed me. I didn’t believe anyone who warned me that you might have a hidden agenda until it was too late. I was too blind to see. But I see now. Dumbledore must value you greatly.” It was the disappointed bitterness that hurt the most.

“It is for your own good, Lucius. This war was destroying everyone and everything. Slowly but surely.”

“No. Severus. That is not your reason. Your reason is that I would not leave my wife and my heir for you. You always felt deprived, always were a maximalist. The one thing I failed to teach you about politics is diplomacy. But I don’t think you could have ever learned it even if I tried.”

“Luci—“

“Leave.”

Just like that, the world shattered.

*

Barty was shaking. Balla wondered if the boy might have a fever. She had never seen a Pureblood boy so terrified and it made her angry. At the boy. At the Mudbloods. At fate.

Rabastan stood next to Roddy, pressing his shoulder against his brother’s for comfort. Their hands were chained behind their backs so they made do with what contact they were allowed.

As for Bella, she had never felt this filled with rage and this empty at the same time. Antonin’s trial and conviction had gone the previous day. Now it was their turn.

Rodolphus turned to face her and in the semi-darkness and bleakness of the antechamber his eyes were like bottomless pits as they boar into hers. Almost pleading. For what/? What could she give him now? “All we have now is each other,” he said quietly.

“No,” was her own low, hoarse answer. “We don’t even have that. They will never allow it.” 


End file.
